The Captive
by Dumbledore'sDragon
Summary: Short Story - Arthur Pendragon takes a ride into the forest one evening and stumbles across a bandit camp. What he doesn't know is that Morgana is held captive there, pretending to be a boy. He knows he can't leave her there, but is he willing to risk his life to save a girl he barely knows?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is written before Series 1, when Morgana and Arthur are, in my opinion, in their early teens. Gorlois is dead, and Morgana is (and always will be in my mind) definitely his daughter. **

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Arthur Pendragon pulls his horse to a halt and looks down over the low ridge. He is alone; he has always enjoyed the solitude of an evening ride. The citadel is sometimes a little crowded.

Suddenly he hears cruel laughter in the trees below him. It sends chilling shivers down his spine. Squinting, he makes out a group of people surrounding a boy about his age. A little way off he can see a light and the smoke from a fire, and yet more people, sitting around it. He's fairly sure they are bandits. Who else would be this brazen so close to Camelot?

Curious, he dismounts and ties his horse firmly to a tree branch. Then he makes his way cautiously down to their level, and peers out from behind the branches of an old oak.

It feels _wrong_, somehow, to be spying on these people, but he reminds himself that they are breaking the law.

The laughing man is obviously the leader. Arthur can tell by his clothes; a black shirt, leather jacket, black breeches and boots. He is not tall, but more than compensates with his build, which resembles that of an ox. His hair is lank and dirty blonde, and his weathered skin burnt the colour of oak apples by the sun. Beside him, a tall, lean man with sallow skin and greasy dark hair runs his fingers over a whip.

Arthur's gaze turns to the boy. His blue cotton shirt is dirty and badly in need of mending, as are his brown breeches and grubby cap. He is obviously little more than a slave, as he is barefoot, and hangs his head like a dog. Suddenly the boy looks up, right at him, and Arthur's heart stops as vibrant green eyes meet his.

This is no slave boy. It is not even a boy. It is Morgana.

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**A/N: This is the first fanfiction chapter I have ever published, so I'm more than a little nervous. Please bear this in mind when reviewing, but I'd love to hear any criticisms or improvements that I can make. **

**K**


	2. Chapter 2

Morgana stares at him in awe. Arthur. Of all the people she had expected to see, he was possibly last on her list. He is just staring at her, his blue eyes filled with shock, and something else.

She quickly looks away. She will not allow him to be captured as well, so she looks down at the floor as bitter laughter continues to ring in her ears.

"Did you think you could disobey us?" The voice speaks harsh and cold in her ear. Morgana knows that, as long as she lives, that voice will haunt her nightmares.

It is Cael's voice. She has learnt enough in her time as his prisoner to know that without having to look at his face. She says nothing.

"Cat got your tongue?" Cael taunts. "Makes a change; you normally have plenty to say." Morgana bites her lip to quell the anger boiling up inside her. He is just goading her, trying to get her to argue, just so he has an excuse to beat her. Not that he needs one.

The old Morgana would have lost her temper by now. But being held captive has taken its toll. She has adapted. She has had to. For life now is about survival.

_Crack! _The whip snaps and Morgana bites her tongue to keep from crying out. She will not give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. She suddenly feels the pressure of boots against the back of her knees, forcing her to crumple to the ground, before the whip cracks again.

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**A/N: Thanks to drennilrem for reviewing. I've split it into short chapters simply for ease of reading, as the perspective changes slightly, but I hope to post them in reasonably quick succession, as they're already written.  
Enjoy,**

**K**


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur's heart goes cold as he hears it. _How dare they?!_ His knees go weak and he presses his back against the tree stump as he squeezes his eyes shut. He knows that it is cowardly, but he can't bring himself to watch.

But he cannot do anything about the sound. Ten times he hears the terrifying _crack, _but never once does Morgana cry out.

He is proud of her for that. _She hasn't changed, then_, he thinks. But that's not going to get out of this mess. Only he can do that. _But how? _He forces himself to think of his options, running them over and over in his mind.

He could charge in and demand that the bandits hand Morgana over. But there are at least ten grown men, and that would most likely result in his capture, too, as well as the bandits discovering Morgana's true identity.

He could go and get help, but somehow he can't bring himself to leave her here alone.

Or he could wait. Nightfall is only an hour or so away, and even bandits have to sleep at some point, he reasons.

So he stays where he is, hidden behind the tree, planning his next move.

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**A/N: Thanks to everyone who's reading this. I'd love more reviews, as I love your opinion, even if it's just one line. **

**K**


	4. Chapter 4

It is only that night that, as she curls up underneath the stars that Morgana finally allows herself to cry. Tears of anger and pain and longing for what was, and what could have been. She cries for her father, lying dead in a distant grave, and for her life before this hell.

She was a princess once, heir to Cornwall. But her father lowered Cornwall to a duchy in return for Camelot's protection in the war. Then, when he died, Morgana was supposed to be taken into the care of Uther Pendragon. Fate, it seemed, had other ideas, and the party taking her to Camelot was separated by bandits, and she alone had escaped.

Since then, she has been disguised as a boy. It is easier that way. The world she lives in now is no place for little girls.

But there is a tiny seed of hope, stored away in Morgana's heart. Arthur. He is Uther's son. If anyone can help her get out of here, it's him. She has escaped before, but one girl, barefoot, is no match for ten men on horseback.

_Arthur will have a horse. _She tells herself firmly. It is that thought that Morgana clings to as she gives into the pain and allows herself to fall into unconsciousness.

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**A/N: Hope you enjoyed the latest instalment. I should point out, as I have failed to do so before, that I do not own Merlin, much to my disappointment. I do however, own everything not directly related to the BBC production, and would therefore appreciate no copying. **

**Please review, it makes my day :)**

**K**


	5. Chapter 5

Arthur waits until he is sure that all of the men are asleep before going into the bandit's camp. He is surprised that no-one is left on guard. If this were a camp of the Knights of Camelot, his father would have had someone's head by now.

He has watched them for the past hour or so, observing the location of the main warriors. It seems that the main camp is split, the leaders at one end, closest to the warmth of the campfire, and the slave boys at the other.

Morgana is conveniently on the edge furthest from the leaders. It shouldn't be too difficult to reach her and escape back to Camelot on his horse. Though, after her punishment earlier, Arthur is unsure of how fast Morgana will be able to run, or how well she will manage the ride.

But he has to take that chance.

He creeps stealthily through the undergrowth, attempting to make the least noise possible so as not to risk waking the bandits, and soon reaches Morgana's sleeping form. It shocks him how much she has changed. She is curled defensively into a ball like a cat, her dark hair tucked up into a grubby brown cap, but at least in sleep she looks peaceful.

"Morgana," He whispers as loudly as he dares, gently shaking her shoulder to wake her. "Morgana!"

Morgana sits bolt upright suddenly, and Arthur lays a warning hand on her forearm. Her eyes widen in fear and shock, before she recognises him, and relaxes.

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**A/N: The next chapter should be uploaded sometime tomorrow. It might even be tonight if I have the time. Please review **

**K**


	6. Chapter 6

Morgana can scarcely believe her eyes. Her heart lurches as she meets his azure blue eyes. He is even more handsome than she remembers.

"Ready?" Arthur's voice is patient and sympathetic, two traits Morgana has forgotten he has, hidden underneath the trained arrogance and indifference that come from being a prince. She doesn't have to be asked twice.

Ignoring the pain in her throbbing back, Morgana scrambles to her feet.

_Snap!_ A branch suddenly cracks under Arthur's foot as he steps backwards.

"What was that?" A harsh voice sounds from beyond the campfire, and several figures quickly rise from their beds. Morgana sees a head turn in her direction, and catches the terrifying gleam in a pair of cold eyes as the bandit notices her.

"One of the boys is escaping!" He yells to his companions. Suddenly the area is full of shouts and sounds of swords being pulled from scabbards. In the frenzy, Morgana feels someone grab her hand and pull her away.

"Run Morgana!" Arthur's voice yells frantically. She suddenly comes to, and pelts through the undergrowth as fast as she can, despite the growing agony in her back. She feels thorns scratch her face and arms, and a low-lying branch tugs the cap from her head, allowing her hair to tumble wildly past her shoulders.

Footsteps pound behind them, and they reach the horse with the bandits hot on their heels. The adrenaline pumping in her veins keeps her moving, and, as she pulls herself up on the horse, Arthur mounts behind her.

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**A/N: Hope you liked it. As always, please leave a review**

**K**


	7. Chapter 7

Arthur grabs the reins and digs his heels into the horse's side. "Come on!" He urges, anxious to put as much distance between himself and the bandits as possible.

Angry yells hang in the air behind them. The bandits will not be happy to find out that a stranger has come in and stolen one of their servants.

He is anxious to get back to Camelot. It's not just the bandits that worry him; he can see the red stains of blood on Morgana's tunic, and knows enough about medicine to realise that her wounds need a physician.

She's pale, too, though she always has been, and he can feel her shivering in front of him. Judging by her grittily determined expression whilst being beaten, this is not the first time she has been in trouble, and Arthur wonders just how she has managed to survive this long without even a bandage, let alone a physician.

The horse gallops on, and Arthur tries to ignore Morgana's moans of pain. As they near Camelot, however, she becomes quieter, and he knows that can't be a good thing.

Suddenly he feels Morgana slip sideways in front of him. He hooks an arm round her waist in panic, pulling her back upright. He's a good rider, and manages to keep the both of them in the saddle, though he's sure Morgana has lost consciousness.

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**A/N: Hope you enjoyed :) I'd really like to hear some opinions on this story, as I'm currently thinking of writing and uploading others. Please leave a review, I love to read them! **

**K**


	8. Chapter 8

It is near enough midnight when the rhythmic clatter of hoof beats finally sounds on the cobblestoned courtyard. King Uther hurries out to greet his son, but stops dead when he sees a second figure in the saddle. A thin, pale figure with long, wild, black curls. Arthur skilfully swings himself down from the saddle, and lifts Morgana's unconscious frame into his arms.

He's alarmed by how little she weighs.

"Morgana..." Uther breathes, scarcely able to believe the evidence of his own eyes.

"Guard!" He suddenly snaps to his senses, and summons one of the soldiers on duty to assist. "Go on ahead and wake the court physician," he orders. The guard hurries away to do as he is bid, and Arthur follows him, though by now he knows his way to Gaius's chambers. He has spent enough hours in there with broken and bandaged limbs after falling off horses or particularly vicious play fights.

When he reaches the familiar oak door, he finds Gaius already awaiting him. The guard, it seems, has already gone back to his night duty, for the physician is alone.

"Lay her on the table, if you would, Arthur," Gaius says, politely enough, but Arthur can hear the strain in his voice.

Arthur follows his instructions quickly, and then leaves, knowing that Gaius prefers to work alone. Anyway, he knows he must report to his father.

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**A/N: This is the penultimate chapter, so thanks for sticking with this story until now **

**K**


	9. Chapter 9

It is raining when Arthur wakes the next morning. Grey clouds line the sky like heavy lace, and puddles are already forming in the courtyard. Typical. He wanted to go and train with Leon and Owain this morning, but he's sure his father will make him stay in and finish the work his tutor set him yesterday.

Still, the rain provides a convenient excuse for him to go and visit Morgana.

He knows the way to her chambers; he has been there plenty of times before when she used to come and stay in Camelot with her father, but still he lingers for a second outside the door, gathering the courage to knock.

Eventually the decision is made for him as he hears footsteps just inside the room, and quickly raps the door so as not to be found dithering outside.

It swings open and a pretty girl of about his age stands there. Her dark skin and brown curls are vaguely familiar, and he remembers her as Gwen, Elyan's younger sister. He and Elyan had played together when they were younger.

"Sire," she curtseys quickly, realising who is stood in front of her.

"Is the Lady Morgana awake?" Arthur asks, keeping his voice low so as to not risk waking her if she is asleep.

Gwen smiles. "Yes, Sire. She's been asking to get up consistently for about the last hour, but Gaius says she must rest. I'm sure she's well enough to have visitors. If you'll excuse me, Sire." She holds up a jug of water and an empty tray by way of an explanation, and walks off down the corridor, leaving Arthur to enter the room by himself.

Morgana is sat up in bed against a mountain of pillows. She smiles as Arthur sits down in the chair next to her bed. Her black curls are newly washed and brushed, though, if anything, she looks even more delicate without the layer of grime. Her skin is paler than he has ever seen it, and she has scratches on one cheek. Worse is the cut on her chin, which holds several stitches.

"I wanted to thank you," She says determinedly, before Arthur can even open his mouth. "For saving me."

Arthur shrugs modestly, a little embarrassed. "It was nothing." He says quietly, suddenly very interested in the swirling embroidery on her bedcover. "Morgana?"

Morgana looks up, meeting his eyes. "Hmm?"

"I never had a chance to say before," He continues, "But I'm sorry about your father."

Morgana smiles sadly. "Thank you, Arthur." There is a note of sincere affection in her voice that Arthur has never heard before. This Morgana is obviously very different to the one he knew.

"How is your back?" He asks, a little uncomfortable, and anxious to steer the conversation back to more mundane subjects.

"Much better, thank you," Morgana replies. "Gaius's remedies are second to none. I'll be right as rain in no time."

Arthur is glad to hear that. His eyes flick to the faint scars on her arms. "Did they hurt you often?" He asks quietly.

Morgana looks away. "Often enough," She says, a hint of bitterness creeping into her voice. "I couldn't keep my mouth shut. When they'd beat someone else for no reason, I'd confront them. I ended up punished, too."

Arthur isn't surprised; he still remembers the summer when Morgana stood in the courtyard and scolded him for taunting a stable-boy.

He doesn't quite know how to respond. "Are you alright?" He asks.

She frowns. "I will be if I ever get out of this bed." She says impatiently. "The King seems determined that I should 'rest' in order to recover fully."

Arthur smiles. This is the Morgana he remembers, impulsive and witty.

"I'll leave you to do so, then," He says, getting to his feet and making his way out of the room.

Morgana smiles, listening to the noise his boots make on the wooden floor.

"Morgana?" He stops just before he gets to the door.

She looks at him.

"I'm glad you're back," He says truthfully.

Morgana smiles at him gratefully as he walks out of the room.

"So am I." She says quietly to herself.

**The End.**

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A/N: I spent quite a long time debating over the ending, and I'm still not quite sure I'm happy with it, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. There's a possibility that I will begin another story soon, though this time longer, and with longer chapters, though you may have to be patient as I have lots of exams this summer, right up until the middle of June.

Thanks for sticking with this fic until the end, and please review, it really does brighten my day.

K


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